I Am
by Ocean of Ashes
Summary: Short recollections from various characters on what has made them who they are. Hints of Addison/Alex, Izzie/Alex and by the time I'm done, probably a whole lot more besides.
1. Addison Montgomery

Disclaimer: Obviously, the characters here are borrowed from Shonda Rhimes for my own amusement, and not mine. In addition, I have to confess, the structure of this piece is also borrowed, although in this case I don't know who from. I saw a poem written in this style on a billboard on the underground, and thought it was really effective. It's also in an advert at the moment, but I have to say, the poem made more of an impact that the product, so I have no idea who to attribute it to.

Author's Note: As I've just mentioned, I've seen poems in this style before and stored it away to have a go at when the inspiration arises. Well, this afternoon, I was at what had to be the dullest cricket match I have every seen, and this wrote itself in my head. I'm not entirely sure what I think of it, but I love experimenting with different styles (although as a rule, poetry is not my thing at all) so any feedback would be particularly appreciated.

_I am Addison Montgomery_

I am my parents, and the high society circle they taught me to exist in,  
And I am my brother, and the bitter rivalry of siblings.  
I am our pet Labrador, Timmy, and long walks through crunchy leaves.

I am every A grade I achieved,  
And every B grade that left me racked with self doubt and a sense of failure.  
I am four years of med school,  
And a long, hard residency of sleepless nights and never ending shifts.

I am every life I have saved, and every life I have failed to.  
I am the look of love in a mother's eyes as I hand her her newborn baby,  
And I am the look of anguished grief when there is no baby to hand her.

I am twelve years of marriage.  
And the happiness and the loneliness it brought.  
I am my brilliant career, and my screwed up life.  
I am my husband, and my lover,  
And my own self destruction.

I am Derek and I am Mark,  
And the friendship we shared.  
I am bad sex in a trailer, and a heartbreaking find in a tuxedo pocket.  
I am the need for revenge, and the hope for something better.  
I am Alex Karev, and vanilla latte,  
And humiliation.  
I am a certain alternative medicine specialist,  
And an undefined relationship.

I am New York, and Seattle, and Los Angeles.  
I am an upmarket Brownstone on the Upper East Side,  
And a hotel room,  
And a beach house.

But today, most of all, I am the plane ticket to Seattle I am holding in my hand,  
And I am the voice over the tannoy calling me to the departure gate.  
I am my past, which might also be my future.  
If he'll have me.


	2. Alex Karev

Disclaimer: As before.

Author's Note: Thank you for the reviews on the first chapter. I was delighted to hear that you think the effort wasn't too shabby, given that I've only ever written about two half decent poems in my life. I'm usually far too wordy to condense what I want to say in a poem. As I feel this author's note demonstrates fairly efficiently. Anyway, this one is Alex. I'm not sure I like it quite as much as the Addison one, a little bit of story seems to have crept in there against my will, rather than it being the reflective kind of thing I was aiming for, but hey, it's up to you. Next, probably Izzie, perhaps Mark. Let me know your thoughts.

By the way, I've only seen Season 3 of Grey's, and although I'm confident-ish that I've got a grip on characters' backstories and what went on beforehand, if you spot an error, please let me know and I'll make a correction if needed. I'd hate for a piece of my writing to be ruined by inaccuracies.

_I am Alex Karev_

I am my mother, and I am every shard of glass I picked out of her hands after another drunken fall.  
I am the vodka bottles I used to bury in the garden so the neighbours wouldn't know.  
I am my sisters, and the need to protect them.  
I am every cut and bruise I couldn't save them from.

I am every snarling insult my father threw at me,  
And I am every time I argued back, just so he'd hit me instead.  
I am six months of wrestling training, and I am the moment I put him out of the house for good.  
I am the unforgiving look on my mother's face when she realised he wasn't coming back.

I am the running away, and the never looking back. Or trying to.  
I am College, and Med School, and proving that I'm not worthless.  
I am a doctor.  
And I am not worthless.

I am one of "Bailey's Interns".  
I am Meredith, and Izzie, and Cristina, and George.  
I am hours of pointless scut work, and the fight for surgeries.  
I am the ferry crash, and I am every last one of those frantic family members.

I am Ava, or Rebecca,  
And a crazy welter of invention on both our parts.  
I am loss, and failure.

I am the nameless, faceless women I have used.  
I am the thrill of the chase, and the emptiness it leaves.  
I am Izzie Stevens.  
I am the gasp of her pleasure and the sting of her anger,  
And I am the rustle of her prom dress as I lift her in my arms.  
I am Addison Montgomery,  
And respect, and lust, and something more besides.

I am the fear that I am not good enough for either of them.

I am a Neo-Natal Surgeon, for reasons I don't quite understand.  
I am the hope that I can become a better man.  
I am last night's unexpected phone call,  
And I am the decision I now face.


	3. Mark Sloan

Disclaimer: As before

Author's Note: I know I said this one was going to be about Izzie, but when it came to writing it, a piece about Mark seemed to flow out instead. The friendship between Mark and Derek fascinates me. I'm not entirely sure why, but I think it's kind of under exploited on the show. Which is better than being overexploited I suppose. But I love it, which I think is probably reflected in this poem.

_I am Mark Sloan_

I am my parents, I suppose,  
And the occasional pang of guilt that I don't call them much anymore.  
I am that lonely, bored looking boy who lived next door  
And that first afternoon I asked him over to play.

I am the trees we climbed and the bikes we rode.  
I am the brother I gained.  
I am Derek, and he is me.

I am the girls we chased, ruthlessly.  
I am breezing through med school, with him.  
I am the feeling that we could conquer the world.

And I am the moment when we both saw a beautiful redhead in an upmarket cocktail bar  
And the feeling of foreboding I had, even then.  
I am the decision I made to stand aside  
And every day of regret that followed.

I am the three of us.  
Mark and Derek and Addison.  
Derek and Addison and Mark.  
Addison and Mark and Derek.

I am all the nights that I took Addison out to dinner to make up for the fact Derek didn't.  
And the neglect we both felt.  
I am the moment where finally, _finally _she needed me the most.  
And the apocalyptic devastation that followed.

I am the _hope _when Addison told me she was pregnant,  
And a cute little onesie that's still in a drawer somewhere.  
I am the _loss _when she told me that it wasn't going to happen.

I am the loneliness when she chased after him,  
And I was left behind.  
No Derek and Addison. And so, no Mark.  
I am the mess I found when I went to Seattle,  
And the knife in my side when I realised that they were both lost to me.

I am the strange moment of hope I felt when Meredith was dying  
And ten minutes in a hospital corridor that we were brothers again.

I am the overwhelming need to punch Alex Karev, really hard.  
And that knowledge when I saw them together that it wouldn't do any good.

I am the lies I have told with my scalpel,  
And the lives I have changed with it at the same time.  
I am the race for Chief, and the way I really worked for it,  
Just to make Derek work more.

I am all the other women that aren't Addison,  
The ones whose names I don't remember, and the ones I do.  
I am quick fixes and cheap thrills.  
I am Erica and Callie, and another triangular mess.

But most of all, all the time.  
I am the hope that one day, Derek might forgive me.  
And I might get my brother back.


	4. Izzie Stevens

Disclaimer: As before

Author's Note: Yep, a surprise little update of this one for you all. This is "chapter" is about Izzie, as I originally promised the last one would be. I hope you think I've done a good job of it, as I've said before I am not a long time viewer of Grey's Anatomy so I don't have the best of grips on pre Season Three. If you see anything that needs honing, then please let me know. And reviews, of course, would be hugely appreciated. Sorry if you read this when it was first posted, I always forget it needs editing after transferring it across from Word. Hopefully it looks a little tidier now.

_I am Izzie Stevens_

I am Cricket, and chocolate cupcakes  
With a spoonful of coconut extract.  
I am a trailer park  
And the overwhelming desire to get the Hell out.

I am a scared, trapped sixteen year old girl.  
I am the heart wrenching conflict of what is for the best.  
And I am the fleeting moments of curiosity that hit me sometimes  
When I wonder how the little girl who is someone else's daughter has turned out.

I am the things I did to put myself through med school,  
Of which I am _not _ashamed.  
I am more than people think I am.  
I am a doctor and a surgeon.  
I am the scalpel in my hand, and the determination not to let it waver.  
I am a burr hole made with a power drill.  
I am the fact that I _care. _

I am one of "Bailey's Interns".  
I am Meredith, and Cristina, and George and Alex.  
I am long shifts, and late, tequila filled nights with them.  
I am insomnia, and baking. Lots of baking.

I am Alex Karev,  
And a first impression that time and tenderness have eroded completely.  
I am the feel of his shoulder, wet with my tears.  
I am George O'Malley,  
And heartache and a moral dilemma.  
My best friend.

I am Denny.  
I am the absolute, unequivocal knowledge of what is meant to be.  
I am hope, and love, and the future.  
And I am the crashing back down again.  
I am the cold hard floor from which I cannot rise.  
I am the moments where I am still there.

I am eight million pounds,  
And the fridge it adorned.  
I am the repulsion I felt for it.  
I am the Denny Duquette Memorial Clinic  
And the need to do something good.  
I am the moment when I was finally, finally, allowed back into surgery.

I am the slow path back into the light  
And the revelation of who I found there waiting for me.  
I am the circle I have turned.


	5. Cristina Yang

Author's Note: I thought it was about time I came up with another one of these little poems, lest you forget this 'story' exists, or think I have forgotten about it. I wanted to do a Derek chapter next really, as I think his perspective is necessary to fit in with Addison's and Mark's, but I don't feel I really _get _Derek (Meredith over Addison – why? Is the man mad?) so I'm going to hang fire on that one until I'm a little more sure of myself. I would love to know what you think of this one though. It was quite challenging to write, as who can guess what's in the inner workings of Cristina's mind, but it was fun to have a stab at it. By the way, my Grey's knowledge is pre season four, and therefore miles away from season five, and I understand there's some new army doctor guy on the scene, but rather than hazard a guess at anything, please assume this poem to be post season three.

Disclaimer: As before

_I am Cristina Yang_

_I am a member of the Dead Dads Club,_

_And always will be. _

_I am still the nine year old girl who doesn't know how to live in a world where her Dad doesn't._

_I am my mother, and her expectations,_

_Which I will never realise._

_I am my father's expectations,_

_Which I try to fulfil every day._

_I am years of excellence, _

_From my high school chemistry lab, to College, to Med School. _

_I am a surgeon, a damn good one. _

_And I am the surgeon I am going to be,_

_The _best _one._

_I am one of "Bailey's interns"._

_I am Meredith, and George, and Izzie, and Alex. _

_Especially I am Meredith. _

_I am her person, and she is mine. _

_I am her sister, and she is mine. _

_I am Colin Marlowe,_

_And a history I had long forgotten about. _

_I am every shade of nail varnish I used to drive him away._

_I am Preston Burke._

_I am the journey from a starry eyed intern to the altar_

_That he led me on. That I led him on. _

_I am a clinic, and a form, and a decision that was taken out of my hands. _

_I am a gunshot._

_And a fear that doesn't really leave me._

_Fear of what happens to me if he isn't okay, and fear of what happens to me if he is._

_I am a running web stitch and a decannulated heart. _

_I am a bank robbery that I still don't know whose idea it was._

_I am a robot._

_But, somewhere inside me, I am the shred of humanity that I found._

_I am the long, long walk to the Chief's office, leaving a trail of blood behind me._

_I am a wedding, and not a small one at City Hall. _

_I am a long white gown, and wedding cakes, and three bridesmaids._

_I am a room full of people,_

_And the vows I scrubbed off my hand. _

_I am the crushing claustrophobia that I found myself in. _

_And I am the crushing agoraphobia when I was free. _

_I am free. _

_I am free._

_And I hate it. _


End file.
